Me Minus You
by igirisexual
Summary: Sometimes, there's nothing you can do, and sometimes, you have to make a choice. For our beloved Mr. Braginsky, both choices are unbearable. To pick at all would be foolish, but fear locks him into a decision that will devastate him for quite some time to come. RoChu. Teacher AU. The conclusion of the 'Something Is Wrong with Mr. Braginsky' event.


Mr. Braginsky slowly closed his eyes, listening to the quiet buzz of Friday's three o' clock bell. "You're dismissed," he said quietly to his class, not turning to face them. His head was made heavy with a swarm of thoughts, each reflection in his mind adding to the deafening clamor inside him. It had been a long day of a long week. He hadn't expected to ever see his parents again, and honestly, he had moved far away from them for a reason. Yet, they found him, and found his town, probably because his sisters had contacted them. They didn't get it as bad as Ivan had and still did, simply because they were precious little girls, and you're not supposed to be mean to girls. Ivan grunted quietly as he erased the work from the board. He wasn't coping too well with his parents being back in town. What was worse was that they were talking about moving here. Ivan would have to move away again if that happened; he didn't think he could bear it.

"Excuse me, Mister Braginsky?" came a voice from behind him, and Mr. Braginsky turned his head slowly, bearing a snarl. The girl who had spoken flinched noticeably, like a small cat when something was swung violently in their direction. For the normally gentle science teacher to be wearing such an expression was almost unheard of. "S-sorry if this is a bad time, I just," she said quietly, fiddling with the small violet ribbon in her hair. "Could I get those laws of motion definitions from you again? I didn't get time to during class," she mumbled shyly.

Mr. Braginsky's face softened, and he sighed quietly. "Sure thing, Lili. I have them typed up, you can copy from my laptop," he said in a hushed tone, opening his computer and quickly navigating his files. Lili got her book and a pen out, and nodded a bit.

"Thank you, sir," she smiled a little, quickly writing down the laws of motion in her cute, loopy writing. "Oh, um, I've been wondering, is everything alright?"

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Braginsky, starting to pack up his other things. "Are they all right? Or are they all left? It's a world mystery." Lili only laughed faintly.

"You seem a bit distant, sir. I-if it's not too out of place for me to say that! I mean, not out of place, but out of my place, I mean, er," she stammered softly, embarrassed to be asking a teacher about such things. "You don't have to answer."

"Is it that obvious?" Mr. Braginsky sighed quietly, rubbing his temples. "I have some things going on, Lili. Problems. I'll trust you not to tell anyone else, since you're my favourite student, but.." he murmured weakly. "Thanks for caring."

"You're welcome, sir," Lili smiled a little, finishing copying her notes. "I hope things get better soon."

"As do I." Mr. Braginsky said softly. "Have a good afternoon, and a good weekend."

"You too!" Lili hummed as she gathered her things and left.

Mr. Braginsky was left alone once more, left alone with just his thoughts and a weak notion of someone caring. It was the weekend ahead he was frightened of most. He had been called by his parents, asking for dinner at his place. If he had said no, they would have chastised him and come anyway. It would have been worse that way. So, he had accepted. He was so terrified, honestly. He finished packing up the classroom, and shut the windows. He flicked the lights off, and gave his classroom one last look before stepping out and locking the door.

* * *

Ivan felt like a child again as he waited anxiously on Sunday evening for his parents to show up. He did not want to see either of them, let alone share a meal with them. He paced fretfully around his small house, trying to fix anything that would give him a bad image. His head hadn't felt so heavy for years. There was heavy knocking on the door, and Ivan almost jumped out of his skin. Breathing softly and sharply, he forced himself to the door, slowly pulling it open. He looked down instantly. In front of him stood not only his mother and father, but Katyusha and Natalya as well. His breath hitched in his throat, and he tried to choke out a word.

"Ivan," his father greeted, looking scrupulously down at him, beady eyes narrowed. "Stand up properly." He grunted. Ivan quickly obeyed, straightening his body and clenching his hands into fists. "Better. Let us in." Ivan awkwardly stepped out of the way, eyes not once leaving the carpet. "Hope you've made something good."

"I made rassolnik," Ivan murmured softly, praying that the soup hadn't gone cold in the time he'd been waiting for his parents to arrive. "You can sit down in the dining room, it's.. it's through here," he said quietly, pointing through the house to the correct room.

After parting from his family to enter the kitchen, Ivan clutched lightly onto his chest, staring at the ground and eliciting short, dry breaths. He felt like he could explode at any moment, and his head spun with every second passing. After going through the breathing exercises Matthew had taught him, he managed to calm down enough to pour the rassolnik without his hands shaking and without spilling said soup everywhere. He had to be calm, or else he'd make things so much worse for himself. After finally pouring enough (he was glad he'd made extra; there was enough for Katyusha and Natalya as well as his parents and him), he started taking the bowls out to his waiting family.

After everyone had been given cutlery and drinks and whatnot, Ivan sat down, staring awkwardly into his soup. He didn't feel too hungry. Everyone else was eating, though, thankfully. And no-one was even criticizing his cooking. It was a miracle."So," started his mother. "What's going on with you? Still dreaming of getting on a rocket some day?" she joked quietly.

"Perhaps," answered Ivan, hoping to cut the conversation off there. His wish fell short of the stars.

"You seem to be pretty badly rooted to the ground," his mother joked, smiling like that wasn't hurtful at all.

"Yeah, well," he murmured. "I haven't invented hover shoes yet."

There was a round of laughter between his mother and father, and Katyusha even had the nerve to add a quiet giggle. They all thought it was so funny. Ivan gave a dry 'ha' and poked at pieces of diced pickle in his rassolnik with a spoon. "So, got you a pretty wife yet?" asked his father, leaning on the table and smiling. Ivan only glanced up for a second before quickly averting his eyes.

"No," answered Ivan, trying not to tremble.

"Ugly wife?"

"No."

"Pretty girlfriend?"

"Dad, I'm gay."

Ivan breathed sharply after realizing what he'd said, and tried to start eating to cover his slip. His mother let out a quiet gasp, and just looked at her husband. Ivan was honestly expecting the whole 'oh, where did we go wrong with him?' spiel, but nothing else was said right then.

"Where are you working?" asked his father, voice noticeably more gruff. "You a doctor, or a lawyer, or something good yet?"

"I'm a teacher," Ivan mumbled. "I teach high-schoolers about science."

"How much do you earn?" he queried, raising a brow. "Is it good?"

"I get by."

"Hah, he gets by," mocked his mother. "Did you hear that? Ivan, you need to get a better job if you ever want to achieve anything in your life!" Ivan really wanted to remind his mother and father that they were both deadbeats mooching off Katyusha's money. She struggled to pay bills nowadays, but couldn't tell them no out of the kindness of her heart.

"I like teaching," Ivan dared to mumble.

"Yeah, well, we all like money more. Get a better job, son."

Ivan cringed slightly and put down his spoon. "I like teaching. My boyfriend works there too. All of my friends work there."

"Oh, god, he has a boyfriend," his mother mumbled, starting to get distressed. "Ivan, really, it's not good for you to keep working there. It's probably influenced you badly."

"I'm not a kid anymore," he said quickly, biting his tongue so he'd perhaps shut up and stop talking back.

"We're still your parents," his father reminded him. _Unfortunately_, thought Ivan. "So, you've got two choices." Ivan felt dread pool in his gut already. "Better job, or lose the faggot boyfriend."

The table was silent once again, Ivan trying his hardest not to panic. His mind was racing, and his heart was pounding violently in his chest. Everything felt unreal, and he had to ask himself if this was just another nightmare. If it was, he would've woken up by now. "I-" he stammered, unable to think of what else to say. "O-or else what! I love my job, and I really like my boyfriend!" he whimpered, eyes shooting up to show a momentary fire within themselves. "What could you possibly do?!"

"Move to this town," his father answered simply, smirking grossly at Ivan. "I like how it is around here. Nice place. I could see myself living here forever." Every word was snarky and crude, and Ivan felt sicker with every syllable from that man's lips. If Ivan left this town, he would leave his job and his boyfriend behind, and those were both things he desperately wanted to keep.

"Why!" Ivan cried, standing up. "Why would you do that?! Can't you just let me go?"

"Because," his father grunted, following the motion. He was taller than even the likes of Ivan, and it made Ivan flinch noticeably. "I'm your father, and I'll do what I want! I'm doing what's best for you!"

"Stop it, both of you," grunted the girl who had been so far silent. Natalya stood, as tiny as she was, putting an arm in front of her father. "Father, you will leave dear brother alone."

"Or what?" he grunted, staring down at her and trying to pierce her heart with fear. Natalya remained unshaken. "You're just as bad, you incestuous freak. Yekaterina is the only _normal_ child I have!"

"That's no way to talk to your daughter!" Ivan breathed, only able to stare as his father grabbed Natalya's arm.

Natalya was something of a combat expert, and she was into action in less than a few seconds. She spun on one foot, swinging the other sharply into her father's side; after that, she used his size against him and swung him from the table and toward the wall. He landed with a thud. "You will leave my brother alone." She muttered dryly, protectively. Ivan was shaking slightly from the fear caused by the commotion, but he was relieved he had at least one person in this family that cared for him.

"How dare you," their father grunted, standing up again and dusting himself off. Ivan's mother quickly stood, hurrying over to him and glaring at the three. Katyusha was quick to join them over there, away from the table and mumbling things of comfort to her father. Disgusting.

"We're leaving," grunted Ivan's father, holding the shoulder that had been thrown into the wall. "What I said still stands, you freak," he muttered, glaring at his quivering son. "Get a job that's worth the effort, or lose that 'boyfriend'. If you don't, you'll be seeing a lot more of us." He went to turn, but realized Natalya wasn't following. "Daughter! We're leaving!" he growled. "Hurry up and come with us."

"I will not," said Natalya bluntly, furrowing her thin eyebrows a little. "Get out of here." Natalya's fiery gaze caused even their father to jump a little, and they were thankfully gone within a minute.

"Thank you," whispered Ivan, collapsing back onto his chair and trying to calm himself down. "T-thanks, Natalya."

"Mm," she said quietly, gathering up the bowls of those who had left. "What do I do with these?.."

"In the kitchen, if you don't mind," he murmured. "They hardly touched them.. I'm glad," he breathed. Natalya nodded and took the dishes to the kitchen, before returning to the table and sitting down. She began to eat, watching Ivan the whole time.

"It's good," she said almost under her breath, spearing a piece of beef on her fork.

"I'm glad you think so," Ivan murmured, a shaky smile finding its way to his lips.

He too started to eat after a while, and even though she had finished far before him, Natalya waited patiently at the table for Ivan to be done. "Do you want to stay the night?" Ivan asked softly, standing up and collecting he and Natalya's plates. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

"If that's what will make you happy," she answered quietly, standing up and tucking in her chair.

After cleaning up and putting away the left over rassolnik, Ivan sighed softly and returned to his sister, who had laid down like she was in a coffin, except upon his floor. "Is it comfortable down there?" he asked softly.

"No," she answered.

"I'm going to go and get changed, aah.. I'll let you sleep in my bed just this once, okay," Ivan huffed softly, wearily. "I'll take the couch."

"No need," she said, standing up. "We can share. I will wait for you there." With that, Natalya scuffled off through his house. Ivan considered himself lucky he was already holding his night clothes to change into.

Ivan ended up laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark of his room. "What do you think I should do?" he asked, although he didn't expect Natalya to be much help.

"Whatever will make you most happy." she said.

"Neither will make me happy," Ivan mumbled. "I don't want to lose Yao or my job, aah.."

"You wouldn't be able to get your job back," Natalya murmured softly. "If you had to move, you wouldn't get either. If you lose your job, you don't get to see your boyfriend any more, anyway." The truth hurt, and Ivan meekly lowered his head.

"I.. He'll understand," Ivan breathed softly. "It's probably better I'm alone for a while, anyway. Isn't that right?" Natalya was silent, just shuffling closer to her brother and lightly curling her arms around one of his. "Yeah," he mumbled softly to himself, smiling shakily at the ceiling. He cried for most of the night.

* * *

Tuesday morning came. His parents were due to make their decision on Wednesday, so this was the latest he could have left it. It was only morning, but timing was of little importance to Ivan. He wondered if he'd been too distant yesterday, stolen away by his own thoughts. "Hey, Yao," he said quietly, walking wearily to his Yao, who was making coffee.

"Morning," Yao smiled, looking up at Ivan warmly. "Coffee?"

"No thanks," mumbled Ivan softly. "I'll be fine."

"How are you?" Yao asked quietly, glancing between Ivan and the coffeemaker.

"I've been better," Ivan murmured. It was natural for him to share a little chitchat a little before getting to the point. "What of you?"

"I'm not too bad, actually," Yao nodded, putting his hair up into a ponytail. "While we're all alone in the staffroom, wanna kiss?" he chuckled, pouring his coffee and stirring some sugar into it. Ivan frowned, glancing to his feet. He had to put those feelings aside. It would be better off this way, he assured himself.

"No," he mumbled, and Yao paused.

"Everything alright? You've never refused a kiss before." Yao mumbled, tilting his head.

"No, Yao, I," he started, taking a deep breath. "Yao, I need to confess something."

"Alright?" Yao said quietly, taken aback by his boyfriend's sudden serious attitude. He wasn't sure to ready himself for a proposal or a tragedy.

"Or is it all left," joked Ivan quietly, dryly. "Yao, I'm.. Br-.." he cut himself off, taking a heavy breath that felt like poison seeping into his lungs. He should've stopped, and every pore of his being told him to shut up now before he did something he'd regret. "I'm breaking up with you."

Yao went silent; the only sound elicited from him soft, slow breaths, which soon became more rapid and sharp as he realized what was happening. "What!" he said, sounding as if he was struggling for breath in the first place. "Why!" he grunted softly, stepping forward and staring up at Ivan. He was honestly quite dumbfounded. "Did I do something wrong? Can you tell me what that is? I'll try and fix it for you," he mumbled quickly. Ivan turned his head so he didn't have to see Yao's pitiful face and the tears he didn't want to believe were pooling in Yao's amber eyes.

"I've said what I've come here to say," Ivan breathed quietly. "I have a class to get to." He started to turn away, but Yao grabbed his sleeve.

"Don't you dare!" he snapped, trying to stop his voice from shaking. "Why are you breaking up with me!?"

"It's for the best," Ivan insisted, struggling to stay calm. "Please, just accept it and move on." He tried to walk again, but Yao pulled him back.

"Fucking stop it!" Yao said, quivering. "This isn't like you! What's going on, Ivan?! Hey!" After trying to move a bit too much, Ivan's phone fell from his pocket, and landed on the ground near Yao's foot. Yao didn't pay it much mind, but when Ivan bit his lip and quickly reached for it, Yao nabbed it first. "What-.." he mumbled, staring at the phone, and the flashing red dot up the top of the screen to indicate it was recording audio.

"Ivan," he mumbled. "Why are you recording this? Is this some kind of joke?" Yao's voice was dark and unwavering, and it frightened Ivan.

"Yao," Ivan murmured back, confidence lost. "I-I swear, I mean, I didn't-"

"Has this all been a joke to you?" Yao asked, holding up the phone. "Really?"

"No, I promise," Ivan breathed. "It hasn't, I-"

"Then why?" Yao asked, staring dull-ly between Ivan and his phone. "Do you think this is funny? Fucking with my feelings?"

Ivan flinched at the horrid cuss, staring at the ground. "Yao, I still really like you, it's just-.. It's for the best-" Ivan tried to say, but the broken look on Yao's face made him trail off.

"If you like me so much, then why this?" Yao said quietly. He didn't even wait for an answer. "F-fine." He sniffled, gritting his teeth. "Whatever! Go fucking make fun of me with Mr. Jones or something! Or my own brother! Go fucking mock me, I dare you!" he spat. "Go to hell, Ivan!" he hissed, before brashly throwing the phone at Ivan and charging off. Ivan was terrified and panicky by this point, and at the object being thrown at him, he was sent spiraling into full panic. He shakily pressed the button on his phone to stop recording.

* * *

"There," Ivan mumbled, glad that that was over. He'd been forced to listen to his breakup with Yao a second time, while his parents gladly took the proof that Ivan had obeyed the terms. "Please don't ever come back to this town," he grunted quietly.

"As long as we don't catch wind of you making a stupid mistake again," his father threatened, standing up with Ivan's mother to leave.

"You won't," said Ivan, resting his hands in his lap and staring at the floor. "I won't be that stupid again, Dad." Without so much as a goodbye, his parents were gone, and Ivan was left alone once again due to his own mistakes. He noted to himself to bribe Katyusha into never talking to his parents about him again. He didn't need to be as drastic with Natalya.

Slowly, he leant back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. He had lost Yao, that man who was so important to him, and remained important even now. He still felt strongly for Yao, of course, but it was a bit late. He wondered if Yao would ever take him back. Perhaps one day, if he could explain what had happened. But wouldn't Yao just get mad for Ivan valuing his job over him? These new and terrifying thoughts swirled around uncomfortably within Ivan's tired head. He wept to the empty room, tears rolling down his cheeks and dampening his chin. He had never wanted to take Yao out of his life, yet the equation was already done, and he was terrified of the consequences. Quietly, Ivan let out a laugh, a pitiful, dry, empty laugh. He'd really messed up his math on this one.

* * *

**important event! you can follow more of this universe/story on askteacherrochu dot tumblr dot com !**


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